1
There are no books in the sea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
2
I dwell in Possibility \u2013
A fairer House than Prose \u2013
(Emily Dickinson)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
3
There are love dogs no one knows the names of.
(Rumi)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
4
I
m
a
g
i
nation<\/p>\n\n\n\n
5
Why look like a dead fish in this ocean of God?
(Rumi)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
6
Get on the highway
Make a left at the sun,
then go straight for two thoughts
(S. Lazar, Directions)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
7
A red cow at sunset cannot be hid
There is no death like business
(R. Sala, “On a cloudy day facing water”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
8
Strawberry impudence
Wretched chocolate
banilla
banilla
vanilla<\/p>\n\n\n\n
9
Kings do not touch doors.
(Francis Ponge, “The Pleasures of the Door”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
10
It must swim for miles through the desert
Uttering cries that are almost human.
(Louis Simpson, American Poetry)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
11
Heaven
was only half as far that night
at the poetry recital
(L. Ferlinghetti, ’21’, Pictures of the Gone World)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
12
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!
(A. Ginsberg, Howl)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
13
Do you want to acquaint the larks with the fatuous music of war?
(K. Patchen, “The Character of Love Seen as a Search for the Lost”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
14
I trust every animal
but especially I adore
dogs in concert.
(Andrei Vosnesensky, “Dogalypse”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
15
“holding the rose the students had given him, refusing to give it up even when it had faded”
(William Kulik, re: Robert Desnos)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
16
I want to sleep the dream of apples,
to remove myself from the tumult of cemeteries.
(Federico Garc\u00eda Lorca, “Gacela of Dark Death”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
17
There is no one that giving a kiss does not feel the smile of people without faces.
(Federico Garc\u00eda Lorca, “Gacela of Escape”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
18
Chairity
Chairfulness
Chairvoyance
The chair can be a friend to you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
19
how do I interrupt night
in her dark dress dancing<\/p>\n\n\n\n
20
Platinum
Possum<\/p>\n\n\n\n
21
I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle.
(Marianne Moore, “Poetry”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
22
imaginary gardens with real toads in them
(Marianne Moore, “Poetry”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
23
water that cleans
flowers that clean
water that cleans as I go…
(Anne Waldman, “Fast Speaking Woman”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
24
Anyway, the time has come to explain
the Golden Eternity
(J. Kerouac, “Poem”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
25
Shut not your doors to me, proud libraries
For that which was lacking on all your well-fill’d shelves, yet needed most, I bring
Forth from the war emerging, a book I have made…
(Walt Whitman)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
26
Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me?
And why should I not speak to you?
(Walt Whitman)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
27
Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
(e.e. cummings)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
28
…poetry makes nothing happen: it survives
In the valley of its making where executives
Would never want to tamper…
(W. H. Auden, “In Memory of W.B. Yeats”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
29
one night — I don’t know where it came from — in a pre-dawn sleep, that funny and tender phrase composed itself: a road-side dog.
(Czeslaw Milosz)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
30
when you were dead I said you had gone to the mountain
(Judy Grahn, “a funeral plainsong”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
31
My guardian angel is afraid of the dark.
(Charles Simic, “The World Doesn’t End”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40
To be a boxer, or not to be there
at all. O Muse, where are our<\/em> teeming crowds?
(Wis?awa Szymborska, “Poetry Reading”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Women and men (both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
(e.e. cummings, “Anyone lived in a pretty how town”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“O frabjous day? Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
(Lewis Carroll, “Jabberwocky”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Since you are empty,
sit still and be empty.
(S. Ironbiter, “Devi”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And as a last breeze freshens the top of the weathered old tower, I turn my gaze
Back to the instruction manual which has made me dream of Guadalajara.
(J. Ashbery, “The Instruction Manual”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The time of minor poets is coming. Good-by Whitman, Dickinson, Frost. Welcome you whose fame will never reach beyond your closest family, and perhaps one or two good friends gathered after dinner over a jug of fierce red wine\u2026
(Charles Simic, “The World Doesn’t End”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Only what is human can truly be foreign.
The rest is mixed vegetation, subversive moles, and wind.
(W. Szymborska, “Psalm”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Poetry, every art, is a flaw and reminds human societies that we are not healthy, even if we confess it with difficulty.
(Czes?aw Mi?osz, “A Flaw”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What could she say to the fantastic foolybear
(L. Ferlinghetti, “A Coney Island of the Mind”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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